


Three's Company

by Sher_Indigo



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Librarian - Freeform, Lleyawin, Multi, Post-Oblivion Crisis, Sexual Frustration, ex-boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11538225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sher_Indigo/pseuds/Sher_Indigo
Summary: Since the Oblivion Crisis begun, Meredit Gyles was the only librarian left to look after the rambling Lleyawin public library.  Since the Champion had closed the gates things had been pretty quiet, but the loneliness and lack of activity are getting to her.  Until one day she meets two very unusual men who seem to need her help...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one I started writing way back in early 2007, when I was realising a bit of freedom of thought and was still heavily into Oblivion. This story stems from a mod I started to write (hey, there's a pattern here!) where I built a library in Lleyawin, populated it with a doughty Breton lady and some guardians for her stock. I just about had all the shelves filled with books after placing a lot of stuff carefully in all the other rooms but when it came to scripting the quests I kind of fell down a bit. However, then I got to thinking about how this young lady managed to not only be in charge of an entire library but also how come there were two Dremora there! So my imagination filled in the gaps and came up with smut lol.  
> I'm still not happy with the very beginning, I think there should be more of her angst about her boyfriend or at least an explanation, but I just wanted to get to the Dremora! Also I didn't want to go into it too much, other than she's a lonely singleton librarian - she's a bit Bridget Jones lol.

Three's Company  
Part One

Meredit waded through the long grass, seeds and petals sticking to her thick robes, her cheeks soaked with tears. “That bastard!” She yelled to the trees and the sky. “That absolute bastard!” Her hands curled into fists she thumped them aimlessly against her thighs and ploughed on through the wilderness, her jaw set with fury. “I should have known.” She muttered as she crossed a stream and let her anger carry her further away from town. “’Never go with a Dunmer’ they said, ‘can’t be trusted’ they said, ‘like to put it about’ they said.” She made a furious snarl of frustration. “And you thought you knew better, Meredit Gyles – well, for once you didn’t know, did you!”

She lost her footing as she reached the muddy banks near the shore, where the river met the sea. She slithered down the embankment getting coated in mud and landed painfully at the bottom, a little bruised and scraped but otherwise unharmed. She dusted herself off and with a haughty tilt of her head she walked on along the shore. Meredit didn’t know where she was going; only that she wanted to keep going until some of her rage at her own foolishness had subsided. 

As she wandered along her anger did indeed fade, to be replaced by trepidation as she noticed the blackened stones and bones that littered the shore around her and strange, alien plants that did not belong in her world sprouted from the debris. Her heart thudded in her chest as she glimpsed the dark ruins of a broken Oblivion gate. There were no more open gates as the Oblivion Crisis that had threatened Cyrodill ended a year ago, but the remains of the gates were dangerous as creatures from Mehrunes Dagon’s plane of Oblivion still remained in some parts. 

She reached for the silver mace she used to threaten rowdies in the library, only to recall that she had left it there at her desk. Swearing softly, she turned to prepare to leave the area quickly and quietly but froze as she heard a low snarl.

The huge black bear walked towards her then towered up on its back legs, threateningly. She stepped back, but stumbled on the loose stones and fell again. The bear charged. Meredit shut her eyes, and raised her arms, waiting for the bear’s fangs to sink into her flesh.

It never came. She opened her eyes and saw that the bear’s attention was now focused on another figure that had emerged from the bushes. She wasn’t sure which should worry her more for the figure was no man, but one of the feared Dremora! A baleful red eye checked her position, then with a roar, he swung his massive black sword and the bear rushed at him. Meredit, speechless, watched helplessly as the tip of the Dremora’s blade sank into the ground and the bear’s claws raked over his sinister armour. She noticed the male was having some difficulty, his movements were stiff and he struggled to raise his blade from the ground. It was then she saw the blood that stained his armour, the great gashes in the dark metal.  
Meredit, without further thought began to pick up rocks and pelt the bear’s head. It snarled with indignation, but still viewed the Dremora as the bigger threat. The Dremora male rallied and swung again at the bear. A few more rocks to the head and the beast finally decided that neither woman nor daedra would be its meal and it retreated back towards the forest. 

Her eyes wide with fright, she stared at the Dremora, suddenly terrified that with the immediate danger of the bear passed, he would now use that blade on her…except he seemed so weak and she could probably outrun him…

He dropped his blade onto the ground and, with violent tremors passing over his body he slumped to his knees and flopped onto the stones. Meredit, her curiosity outvoting her good sense, crept over to the daedra and touched him. He breathed, just barely but his skin was cold and there was a decided greyness to his ebony black face. 

“The poor thing is quite exhausted.” She said to herself. “And he seems to suffer greatly from his wounds.” She took one of the small bottles from her pack, glad that she had at least heeded that wretch Fathym on his advice to never go far without a healing potion or two. Of course, he’d also said to never go far without a weapon either, but she blamed him for her lack of planning there. She unstopped the bottled and poured a little into the Dremora’s mouth. At first it just dribbled over his large, fleshy lips onto the ground but eventually his mouth worked, and he seemed to visibly gain strength.

The Dremora’s eyes opened and she was a little unnerved to see the glow of Oblivion fires gleaming in the red orbs and more than surprised to see uncertainty in the craggy lines of his face. They stared at one another for several moments, Demon and Mortal, enemies but where he would usually have held the upper hand, the scales tipped more in her favour and he seemed to know it. Meredit held her breath as she watched the evaluations going on in the intelligent glowing gaze. A massive hand encased in a jagged gauntlet reached up and clamped onto her arm. “Kezutet.” He rasped, gestured roughly in the direction he’d initially appeared from then fell into unconsciousness again.

The healing potion had done what it could; she supposed that all he needed now was to rest, although she wished he could have found a more comfortable place to do so. She had no idea what he meant by “Kezutet” having never studied many daedric works but whatever it meant, he had seemed very anxious that she understand. After establishing that the big Dremora was sleeping, she got up and went to investigate the area he had gestured to. She parted the vegetation and found the entrance to a cave. Perhaps Kezutet meant “cave” in Daedric, she mused, and he wanted to go inside. She shook her head, no; he would surely have known that she wouldn’t have been able to haul his heavy body into the cave. She went inside and had travelled some distance within when another thought occurred to her, perhaps his utterance had been a warning to stay out of the cave. 

She swallowed and listened carefully but there were no sounds other than a faint crackle and little light other than a dim glow ahead. Steeling herself, she ventured down deeper into the cave and her breath caught as she reached a wide cavern. Within was a makeshift camp, essentially just some rags battened to salvaged sticks. A fire burned nearby, its smoke rising up through cracks in the cave roof and partly filled the cavern itself. But there, on a rude pallet by the fire lay a second Dremora male except this one seemed in even worse shape than the one she’d met outside.

She suddenly understood that Kezutet was not a “what” but a “who” and must be the name of this daedra. She also understood that the other Dremora had wished her to give medicine to his colleague. 

She knelt beside the Dremora and carefully trickled some of the healing potion into his mouth. As she held his face she became alarmed at the waxy feel of his skin. This one was very sick indeed. “Come on.” She urged as yet more of the liquid spilled from the Dremora’s mouth. He coughed a little and swallowed roughly, the severe features contorting as the healing liquid rushed down his throat. As the potion took effect the Dremora seemed to edge closer to consciousness. She added the very minor healing spell that she’d learned from a travelling priest to boost the potion’s effect. She had no doubt that the Dremora’s affliction was too much for either medicine, but hoped that the being’s own fortitude could help him.

After all but exhausting herself casting her small healing onto the creature, all the while wondering if it was a good idea to be doing so, she began to notice an improvement in her otherworldly patient. Once she was certain that he was doing nothing but sleep peacefully, she left some of the food she'd brought with her beside him and left the cave.

The first Dremora still lay out on the shore where he'd fallen. She frowned. It was not a safe place to sleep, it would be dark soon and as she very well knew, wild animals could come upon him. She didn't like the thought of him being eaten where he lay so decided to stay with him, at least until he woke up. Besides, she thought sourly, it wasn’t as if anyone would be looking for her this evening. 

Secundus was up over the horizon by the time the Dremora stirred. She'd checked on Kezutet and he still slumbered on his pallet. The big horned head moved and she caught the gleam of his eyes in the darkness. He said something in his own language that she couldn't follow. Eventually he tried a different tack. “Kezutet?”

“He sleeps, he should be fine by morning.”

For all that the male couldn't make himself understood in her language, he seemed to comprehend her well enough. He nodded and sagged back, relieved. “Thank you.” He rasped in a very heavy accent.

She bowed her head. He stared at her for several moments more before turning to stare at the sky, a powerful arm tucked behind his head. For what it was worth, he seemed to trust her. She opened her pack and gave him the last few bits of food. He turned his head and blinked slowly at the offerings then met her gaze with mute astonishment. He reached for some bread and ate, watching her all the while. 

“Tell me,” he said after a prolonged silence, his every word dragged from deep within as he struggled to speak her tongue. “Why?”

“I don't know.” She said in a small voice. “I couldn't just stand by and watch you suffer.”

He snorted and a bitter smile twisted his lips. “Suffer...we make suffer do we not?”

“I suppose you do, but I don't.”

“No.” He agreed. “Very...glad of that.” 

The darkness was thick around them, she almost couldn't see him at all, only the eerie glow of his eyes. “Can you move?” She asked him. “You should go back inside, safer there.”

"Yesss." He agreed and gave her a pointed look. "Saferrr inside."

She flushed, knowing he was meaning for her to get back indoors herself.

"I'll be back in the morning." She told him and as if Hircine himself were on her heels, she fled up the hill back to the sanctuary of her library.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meredit has an interesting proposal for the two Dremora but does she really know what she is letting herself in for? Plus, a visit from her ex threatens her equilibrium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a couple more chapters more or less finished so shall post them as soon as I can.

Meredit glanced round and made sure that the guards weren't watching her departure too closely. Of course, they all seemed to know about her acrimonious split with Fathym so just seemed to assume that she needed her time alone, which, she decided upon reflection, had been a good thing for she might not have been able to help the two Daedra otherwise.

Once away from the town gates she headed straight into the wilderness and towards the cave at the shore where the Dremora recovered from their injuries. Her heart fluttered a little as she neared the cave, thinking of her two patients. She shook her head, why was she feeling excited - they were dangerous Daedra! Chastising herself, and putting on her characteristic stern expression, she entered the cave.

Both were awake and she could see the remains of the food she'd left for them the previous day. Neither of them smiled, but she established by their continued relaxed postures that they were pleased to see her. “I brought you some more wholesome food.” She began, getting to business right away. “And some more healing potions. I think with plenty of rest and a few good meals inside you, you'll both make a full recovery.”

“We thank you, Lady Meredit.” Kezutet began. “We did not expect aid from any of the mortals in this realm. You have come to us in our time of need.”

She giggled nervously. “To be sure, I don't know why I'm helping you...but I couldn't just stand by and let you die so I suppose that is reason enough. Perhaps others might have done the same.”

She saw doubt etched in both their sharply angled faces at that. Feeling uncomfortable, she served up her home-cooked shepherd's pie and the boiled vegetables she'd brought for them. They fell on the meal with much vigour and cleared their plates rapidly, saying nothing apart from the occasional rumble of what she presumed was approval at her cooking. She flushed with female pride.

Kezutet put his fork down and regarded her thoughtfully. “Whatever your reasons, we are glad that you chose to help us rather than see us destroyed. Zanakal and I talked last night and we both agree that our unusual situation requires us to bend to it rather than attack the problem as our Lord might otherwise have us do.”

Zanakal uttered something then in his native tongue. She had noticed that when around Kezutet, he never attempted to speak Cyrodillic, leaving it entirely to his friend. Kezutet nodded. “We also realise that we are probably trapped here in your realm and since we have been severed from Lord Dagon we may very well be as mortals here.”

“Because your wounds became infected and you got sick?”

He nodded again. “Thanks to you we will recover from our injuries and sickness, and although we are created to serve the cause of Destruction, I assure you that we Dremora have a code of honour amongst ourselves. We owe you our lives and this we will not forget.”

“I-” She blinked at them, unable to find any words to say to that. In the end she just bowed her head and hoped that sufficiently expressed her thoughts.

Kezutet's expression was proud, even as he said, “But we have a problem, Zanakal and I.”

“Oh?”

“The fact remains that we do not belong here, Lady Meredit. You have shown us mercy, but I doubt the others of your realm will because of what we are. This cave would serve as a dwelling, but eventually our weapons will fail us. We have no tools for repair, no way to recharge our weapons and we would constantly be in fear of discovery.  
“So, Lady Meredit, I must ask that you do not aid us any more.”

She started and gaped at them. “What?”

“We do not wish any more of your provisions or assistance. I will put my blade through Zanakal's heart, then cast fire upon myself until my mortality fades. Perhaps we will be reborn in the fires of Oblivion, perhaps -”

“No!” She protested, her voice imperious and as equally filled with hauteur as Kezutet's. Kezutet regarded her with mild curiosity, one of his eyebrow's raised. “I assure you, Lady Meredit, we would rather end our lives in honour than in squalor and misery. Now that we have been restored to our rightful selves, this is the only way.”

“No,” she said brusquely, “It is not.”

She wasn't sure where the plan had sprung from, which demented part of her mind, but when the idea emerged, there was no denying that it made a deal of sense. Oh, to be sure it would have seemed insane to some, but to her it made for a perfect solution, especially since the very mention of the Dremora ending their lives had struck such a cold weight of dread into her stomach. She couldn't help but smile, her strict tone had quelled the Dremora to silence. Both of them stared at her in amazement.

“I have an idea that should be in keeping with your sense of honour. Perhaps you may even enjoy it. You see, I run the local library here in Leyawin. The other librarians left at the beginning of the Oblivion crisis and none have returned. Only I remained at my post. Now, the problem is that others know I am running the place alone and the library has become a target for petty thieves. I do worry that as the thefts increase there will either be nothing left in the library, or I will be dead at the hands of some ruffian.”

“You wish for us to become your guards?”

She shifted, suddenly wondering if her plan sounded just as ridiculous to them. “There is plenty of room and since many experts in conjuration can summon your kind I'm sure that – at least at first – your presences wouldn't be questioned too much. I have the resources to get the tools and things you need, as well as food and shelter for you. After a while, I doubt anyone would challenge you for you would be known as my library guardians and you would have a place – at least in Leyawin.”

Kezutet explained the situation to Zanakal who responded with a casual shrug. “You would offer us shelter and occupation? Give us a task that makes us part of this realm?”

She swallowed, and nodded, apprehensive that they would refuse and insist upon ending their lives, which, she decided, would be such a dreadful waste of two such remarkable men.

“Lady, it sounds like a terrible risk you take for us, but we accept, for a time at least. If it proves too difficult for you or us to adapt to or we feel that our debt is paid then we shall leave.”

“And kill yourselves.” She grumbled.

“There would be no other option.”He argued calmly. “But for now, you have yourself two of Dagon's Markynaz at your service.” He dipped his head in a faintly mocking bow.

Markynaz...she knew the term and her throat constricted. They were the High Lords of the Dremora, the highest ranking of all Dagon's creatures and she had brazenly asked them to perform menial duties for her! Pale with shame she began to stammer her apologies.

Kezutet smiled. “I tease you, Lady Meredit, as I said, this situation calls for us to adapt and our rank does not serve us here. This is your realm, not ours, you are therefore our Lord now, and we defer to your judgement.”

She glanced at Zanakal, who said nothing, only smiled.

*

The following day she smuggled some hooded robes out of the town, spent the day with the Dremora and together they made their way up from the shore to the gates. The two Dremora males, cowled in the thick robes trundled along behind her, heads bowed, bodies hunched so as to seem smaller than they actually were. She calmly deflected the guards questions with the relieved exclamation of “At last! The Librarian's Guild have finally sent me some assistants.”

“Good, Mistress Gyles, we at the watch have been worried about you there in that place on your own. Some rough types abroad these days after the Oblivion Crisis and all.”

“Very true,” she said somberly, then brightened, “but no need to worry about me any longer now that my help has arrived.”

“Indeed, Mistress Gyles. Goodnight now.”

“Goodnight.”

The library wasn't far from the town gates, at one time it had been an important place to welcome visitors to Leyawin to help them find their way to the interesting historic sites and statues in the area, but now, with the country still in shock after the Oblivion Crisis, very few people ventured beyond the boundaries of their own towns.

She unlocked the door and went inside, lighting the lamps before sealing the door once more. It occurred to her more than once that she was now locked inside with two very dangerous beings, but she felt strongly that they would not harm her. As she turned to her two otherworldly guests she also felt a sense of rightness, that they belonged here, even if they didn't realise it yet. 

“Make yourselves at home.” She smiled. “Washroom and privy are down the hall, there's sleeping quarters through there or up the stairs. My room is up there at the end, the one with the big bed, you can't miss it.” She gave a wry grin, “Since I was the only one left I thought I'd take the privilege of the most comfortable room.”

“Very wise.” Kezutet agreed. He and Zanakal exchanged a few words in their native tongue. “It may also be wise for one of us to stay down here in the event of a breach in the library while the other stays upstairs in case anything should befall you personally.”

She gave him a watery smile, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer potent masculine presence of them both. “Sounds fine.” She squeaked before retreating to make some refreshments. As she did so she heard the pair move around the library. She was at once achingly aware of them, yet at the same time felt oddly reassured that they were there. She shook her head, too much time alone, woman, she chastised herself, these are not just ordinary men but Dremora...rather sensible Dremora who had a strange sense of humour. She smiled to herself and brought through the cups and plates of food on a tray.

The Dremora, eager for food as ever flanked her as she served the supper at the table. Two pairs of glowing red eyes gazed at her with respect and gratitude as they relished every morsel. She felt a warmth inside, glad to feel appreciated and delighted to feel so utterly feminine. She wondered what dremora women were like, then had the distressing thought that perhaps they had left wives or lovers back in their realm.

Zanakal said something to her. Kezutet, suddenly alerted, enquired what the matter was. By the Nine, were they becoming so sensitive to her shifts in mood after such a short time that she already couldn't keep much from them? The notion didn't entirely displease her, but it did mean that she had to give them some kind of an answer.

“I was just feeling sad for you...that you are stuck here without your families.”

The two Dremora exchanged a glance. “Zanakal and I are 'family' to each other, you could say. We leave no one important behind, we have nothing to regret.”

“Good.” She said brightly, then cursed herself and attempted to draw attention away from herself by buttering some bread.

Kezutet regarded her with amusement. “You no longer feel sad for us?”

She choked on her bread and scowled at him, snapping, “I am concerned for you both, all right? It can't be easy being stuck here and I'm just trying to understand.”

“Of course, I am just surprised by you once again, Lady Meredit, do forgive me.”

“Forgiven.” She groused, nibbling on her bread.

Zanakal gave a grumble and snarled Kezutet's name along with some succinct epithet in his native tongue. Kezutet laughed. The other Dremora, with a roar, drew his weapon. Kezutet's hands suddenly gathered flame, ready to throw at his friend.

“Enough!” Meredit yelled. “Sit down, both of you!” The Dremora sat down as if their knees had been struck out from under them. She was quivering with fright at the sudden explosion of masculine tension, but her sense of library decorum outweighed even that. “I will not have that kind of behaviour in my library!”

“But of course, Lady Meredit.” Kezutet murmured.

“Yesss.” Zanakal said in his heavily accented Cyrodillian, bowing his head towards her. She would have been satisfied that all order was restored but for the gleam of wild delight in the eyes of both Dremora. Sullenly, she carried on eating her supper.

“Zanakal has no humour when it comes to your honour, Lady Meredit.” 

She gave Zanakal an indulgent glance. “Thank you, sera, but my honour is my own concern for the time being.” Gratified at the cowed glances of both Dremora she was about to say something else when there was a sound at the front of the library. Two weapons were drawn and she saw the Dremora transform from their relaxed manner to battle-ready in the space of a heartbeat. Her own pulse quickened, but she was able to reason enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, it might not be thieves, usually they wouldn't try the door. It might be one of the local beggars, they stay in the basement rooms sometimes when the weather is bad.”

“The weather is fine.” Kezutet said.

She shifted, her own senses on alert. “I know...let me go and check first, then you two can get as dangerous as you like if I'm wrong.”

Kezutet's teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Very well.”

She nodded and went to see who was at the door. Upon opening it, she immediately wished she hadn't. A Dunmer, not entirely unpleasant to the eye, stood on the library threshold, a confident smile on his face. Fathym Ares. She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Now, Merry, that's no way to talk to your beloved.”

She propped a hand on her hip, keeping the other on the door to bar his entrance. “I'm not stupid, Fathym, I know I'm not your beloved. Let's cut the Minotaur crap and why don't you explain why you're here.”

“I'm hurt by your tone, but you are right, I do want something.” He gave her a smile that at one time she might have found disarming but now just made her suspicious. He moved closer, until he was pressed against her. At least he would have been if she hadn't gritted her teeth and moved aside, after considering that letting him in was the lesser evil.

“Listen, I know you found me with Lilyan Gerard and that you were angry with me.”

“Angry doesn't really cover it.”

He wasn't the least discouraged and moved towards her again. She took a step back. He gave an exasperated sigh, as if she were being unreasonable. “I don't see why you should let a little fit of pique ruin a perfectly good thing for you.”

“You...what?” She gaped at him in disbelief.

“Darling, you're here all alone and let's face it, the other men are hardly beating a path to your door, I'm simply offering to take care of your particular...needs.”

“I don't believe I'm hearing this!” She howled in outrage and pointed to the door. “Get out!”

Fathym didn't budge, just continued to give her that look as if he only had to wait long enough for her to recover her senses and swoon into his arms. “You don't know what you're missing.” He crooned. “Oh, but actually you do.” His smiled turned a little predatory and he curled an arm around her, grasping her buttocks. She batted at him but he didn't let go. With a snarl of frustration she shoved him hard and he staggered back a couple of paces.

“Get out.” She repeated.

He held up his hands. “You know where I am when you need me.” And with that, he left. Hot tears of fury and shame splashed onto her cheeks. She attempted to stifle her sobs with the back of her hand, but some still trickled out. A soft sound nearby reminded her of her guests. She saw the gleam of their eyes in the shadows, the lamplight glittering along the edges of their drawn weapons.

“Is everything all right?”

As her chest constricted, she didn't want to have to answer them, didn't want to deal with the masculine pride that had been about to intervene upon her own foolishness on her behalf. Bursting into floods of tears, she fled the room and ran upstairs.

Zanakal tensed, ready to follow. Kezutet placed a hand on his arm and shook his head. “I don't think she would appreciate either of us right now.”

He glanced instead at the door where the Dunmer had left and a menacing grin spread across his angular features. “Some nightmares might make him think twice before upsetting our lady again.”

“Yes.” Kezutet chuckled. “Let's put the terror of Oblivion into that idiot mortal.”

*

She heard the library door open and close again. She could almost feel the departure of the two Dremora as the two intensely masculine presences left. More tears spilled onto her cheeks. Not even they could stand to be near her now. She felt desolate and utterly ashamed, not because of what Fathym had done, but because she had, in some hateful, weak part of herself wanted his offer. She bit the pillow and trembled as she tried to keep her tears inside herself. Mostly she coped, living alone, facing the daily troubles that occurred - mainly because she was here alone but there were times, in the deepest parts of the night when she did get lonely and did wish, that just for a moment she didn't have to worry, that there was someone strong nearby to help, or take charge... She sighed, the real reason, she supposed, that she had urged the Dremora to stay with her, but even they saw her weakness and were embarrassed by it. 

She was asleep by the time they returned. Zanakal peered into her room and saw her tangled amongst her blankets, still fully dressed, handkerchiefs scattered around her. He crossed the room, surprisingly quietly for a being his size and with the utmost care, removed her shoes, cleared away the handkerchiefs and tucked the blankets around her. 

Kezutet met him by the door, a frown of concern on his face. “She sleeps now.” Zanakal told him.

“Fathym does not.”

The two Dremora shared a wicked grin and went to their respective beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I feel that there should be "more" in some places but I'm just not sure! I'd welcome any suggestions.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meredit begins to grow accustomed to her new houseguests. A stranger arrives at the library. Meredit learns more about Dremora.

III

She still felt hollow and desolate when she woke up in the morning, loathing herself for missing damn Fathyn and that illusion she'd kept so close to her breast when they'd been together that she had someone. He was right, the men weren't beating a path to her door. A prickly, stern librarian did not suit the available men of Leyawin who desired someone younger, more biddable and who wasn't tied to the rambling library building. Was Fathyn's casually given “offer” what her romantic life amounted to? Sex when she “needed” it but no real fondness there, no one to tell her, “Meredit, you're a wonderful woman,” she felt the tears spring to her eyes again and she fought them away as she went downstairs. No profit in thinking like that. She had a library to run, a lot of people depended on her and longing for a man to cuddle at night was clearly a fruitless wish. 

Stiffening her jaw, and squaring her shoulders she went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast but ground to an astonished halt when she saw that one of the Dremora was there already. Zanakal hunted through the cupboards and stores in a relaxed fashion, examining the occasional item before either returning it or placing it on the tray before him. That he was still in the library was one source of her surprise, the other was the sight of his broad shoulders and strong back without his armour or shirt on. Her mouth went dry, by the Nine, he is a fine specimen...she swallowed and clung to the doorframe to support her suddenly quaking knees. His skin was that same ebony black all over, satin smooth with tightly corded muscles beneath. The vivid red markings on his face carried on over his torso, and, she noticed, feeling her cheeks flame at the revelation, they seemed to continue right down beneath his trousers too. She also noticed the scars that decorated his form, layer upon layer across his shoulders, back and sides. Some seemed very old indeed, while others were more recent and showed his livid flesh beneath. She had the sudden urge to touch him, to run her hands over the smoothness of that dark skin, to feel that evidence of his strength and his sheer survivability under her palms. Her fingers closed into fists and bunched amongst her skirts to keep them still.

  
Zanakal turned and gave her a sleepy smile. “Greetingsss, Lady Meredit.”

She bowed her head. “Greetings, my Lord Zanakal. You are hungry I see.” She steeled her courage to move into the kitchen without running her hands over him and goggled at the items that were on the tray – half a preserved ham, raw eggs, an onion, some beer and a handful of ironnuts. He picked up the onion, preparing to sink his teeth into it. She snatched it out of his hand. “Sit down, I'll make you something more...edible.” He stood in the same spot, a look of complete patience on his face but evidently he had not understood her...or he was being wilfully perverse. She pointed to the dining area and pushed him, feeling an unexpected jolt of electricity up her arm as soon as her hand contacted the heat of his back. He looked down at her, the fires in his eyes swirling. Her breath caught and she remembered who she was shoving around. He went and sat down all the same, watching her every movement. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and tossed her hair from her eyes, attempting to regain some composure before cooking some breakfast for her guests.

Kezutet had emerged as she was serving the breakfast. He was in a similar state of undress to his friend and Meredit faltered at the sight of two very splendid male bodies in her dining room. Shaking her head to restore some sense, she bustled in. Kezutet had his hand on Zanakal's shoulder, speaking quietly to him. He was holding his side, and seemed in pain. His hair, that mass of twists and golden ornaments was unbound and sprawled down his back. His eyes seemed weary, however and even the fires within were paler than usual. “Kezutet?” She put the tray down and rushed to his side.

“I am fine.” He grumbled.

“You don't look fine.” she said tersely and tugged him towards a chair, all but pushing him into it. She prised his fingers away and hissed at the deep wound. Her healing spells of a few days ago had helped, but his activity and the depth of the injury meant it must have been giving him incredible agony. She cast her small healing spell over and over, weeping as she saw little improvement in the wound.

“Lady Meredit.” Kezutet caught her hands. “It is all right, stop now before you exhaust yourself.”

“But-”

“I can see you can do little more right now. Eat. I appreciate your efforts, but do not strain yourself.”

She bowed her head and stood. Kezutet did not release her. She cast him a quizzical, pleading look. He squeezed her hands, smiled and let her go. Stunned, she sat down. 

After they had eaten the two Dremora went to get dressed. Her brows snapped into a frown. “Kezu, you shouldn't put your armour on – that wound needs a chance to heal and you should rest.”

“And how should I perform my duty of guarding you from my bed?” A wicked grin flashed across his face, “Unless you propose joining me?”

Her cheeks burned and she stormed out, almost throwing the dishes into the sink. However, when she returned, she found that he had at least heeded her and had not put on his armour and carried only his dagger for a weapon. He gave her an amused glance and held up a hand that instantly filled with fire. “Think you I am allowed to exert myself this much, Lady Meredit?”

“Suit yourself.” She sniffed, folding her arms. “But fire spells are forbidden in the library, could burn the place down.” He extinguished the flame with a flick of his fingers and walked over to her, a slight hitch in his stride. He stood before her and gently tipped her chin up so she looked at him. Once she was focused completely upon him he held up his hand and it at once filled with a swirling ball of ice. “I tease you again, Lady Meredit, but I do not want you angry with me. Your good opinion matters as much to me as my health matters to you.” And with that he kissed her forehead and limped over to a chair in a shadowed corner of the library, pulled his hood low over his face and opened a book.

Zanakal arrived, a cloak over his armour to conceal his form. She giggled nervously. He was still taller than even the Altmer men that lived in Leyawin and his muscular body, combined with the spiked ornate armour beneath the cloak made him seem positively terrifying. Still, if anyone wanted to cause trouble in her library today they'd be fools for doing so. He went and stood near the door, in a shadowed spot where he might be missed by casual observers and remained there.

She stared at her two guardians, still unable to quite believe that they were actually going through with her request and despite feeling that her equilibrium was utterly out of balance because of Kezutet's behaviour, she was equally astonished by just how safe she felt with them there.

Meredit squared her shoulders, tipped her head haughtily and unbolted the library door in preparation for the day.

*

By lunchtime she was flicking at the quills in their cup on her desk, disappointed that bandits hadn't tried to hijack the library and run off with its treasures or any other disaster that she'd been dreading before. Some scholars from the mage's guild had been in to study and the townsfolk had been by to read the latest copy of the Black Horse Courier but that was all.

She smiled at Kezutet, who had nodded off in his chair, the book limp in his grasp while Zanakal still stood, poised, by the door. She felt a little foolish. Maybe the rogues in the area had given up on the library as a target and she had overreacted to the whole threat, dragging the Dremora into her life when in truth they didn't belong in it.

She sighed, but if they'd truly wanted to die then they wouldn't have agreed to come here in the first place and it was probably just as well for the sakes of their healing bodies that nothing dreadful had happened on their first day. She wandered over to Zanakal and whispered, “Go on through, I'll fix you up something to eat.”

She left some cold meat, bread, fruit and cheese out for him, which she hoped he'd leave enough for Kezutet when he woke up and wandered back to the library. 

“Excuse me.” A cultured male voice said. “I wonder if you could help me.”

“Certainly.” She beamed at the rather handsome Imperial. “What is it you're looking for?”

“Have you any further specific texts on alchemy? I've read the Fundamentals of course, but what I need is a little more...involved.”

“There's quite a few good texts on alchemy over in our arcane section.” She walked over to the shelves with him, expounding on the various merits of a number of the items in her catalogue. She did enjoy her work after all.

“Thank you.” He gave her a dazzling smile that sent her pulse racing then took a few books to one of the reader tables while Meredit went to sit back at her desk again. Kezutet opened his eyes and peered at the newcomer from beneath his cowl with a frown on his face. He fingered his dagger, liking this Imperial not at all. For all that he was making a great show of opening and closing books and flicking pages, the man's eyes weren't on the words at all but straying around the library, settling now and then on the oblivious Meredit.

Zanakal returned to his post a short time later and Kezutet was gratified that his friend quickly noticed the strange behaviour of the Imperial. They exchanged a glance but Zanakal shook his head and gave a brief indication in the direction of Meredit. Kezutet sat back. He was right, of course, their Lady would not appreciate a scene, not if they could not justify their suspicions. For all he knew the Imperial was just a poor scholar whose mind was easily distracted.

As the day wore on, the Imperial abandoned his books, taking one with him to the desk. “I'm wondering if I may borrow this one, your particular recommendation was the most useful.”

Meredit preened a little with professional pride. “Certainly. Are you new to Leyawin?”

“I'm passing through.” he replied. “I'm staying at the Five Claws Lodge for at least a couple of weeks. That won't be a problem for my borrowing this will it?”

“No, no, of course not. If you just leave the book with the proprietor he will return it to me after you go. Many visitors to Leyawin enjoy the privilege of reading during their stay.”

“I'm sure they do and it is most kind of you to ensure it.”

“All part of the service.” She smiled.

He filled out the form and chatted with her amiably. “I don't suppose,” he added bashfully, “that you would care to meet me later at the Inn for a drink?”

“I...uh...will have to make sure my er...staff are fed.”

He seemed nonplussed by her odd remark. “Later then? I'd like to pick your brains some more about alchemy if I may.”

She flushed. “I'm not an expert, truly, I just know which books prove the most useful to those studying the subject.”

The man rolled his eyes. “You make flirting an incredibly difficult task, lady.”

Her blush deepened and she made great work of shuffling papers around on her desk. “Eight o clock all right with you then? Good.” He smiled and left without waiting for her reply. 

*

As she locked up the library at the end of the day and bid farewell to her regulars, she found herself surrounded by two very tense Dremora.

“Well?” Kezutet demanded.

“'Well' what?”

“Do you intend to go out with that man?”

She bridled. “I hardly think it is any business of yours.”

“Your safety is our business.” He snarled. “Since you made it so.”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “By the Nine! I hardly think he is planning to slit my throat in the local tavern now, do you? If you must know I was not intending on taking him up on his offer, but right now I just think I might!” 

“Meredit...” Zanakal begged.

She rounded on him, her embarrassment lending piquancy to her temper. “You two will have to learn when its appropriate to be overprotective and this is not the time!”

She flounced away and grabbed her cloak. 

“Meredit...” Zanakal repeated as her hand was on the latch. She paused and faced him, impatience plain on her features. “Be careful.” 

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and showed him the hilt of her silver mace that hung from her belt and concealed amongst the folds of her robe. He chuckled.

Kezutet, his face still tense and angry snapped. “Fine! Go! But just heed this one thing.”

“What's that?”

“At least this proves Fathym to be false.”

She spluttered an astonished laugh. “Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“Which means you don't have to go out.”

She rolled her eyes and left the library. When the door closed Zanakal punched his friend in the arm. “By Dagon's balls you are a dolt!”

Kezutet glared at him. “She shouldn't have gone out.”

“But now she has.”

“I am beginning to understand how stubborn our lady can be.”

“It would seem she is exceedingly so.” Zanakal agreed. “And very touchy when it comes to matters concerning her personal affairs.”

Kezutet scowled. “She should not need personal affairs.”

“She ran from the room when you suggested she spend the day in bed with you. I hardly think she views either of us in the same light she looks at the Imperial in.”

Kezutet crossed his arms. “He is a fool.” He eyed Zanakal suspiciously. “And don't try to tell me that your first thought wasn't to gut the man.”

“True...but surely subtlety will win out for us in the end – we are not Xivilai to just charge at a situation without thought, are we?”

*

Meredit returned later and was both relieved and disappointed that there were not two Dremora pacing in the library waiting for her return. It wasn't terribly late but the daedra had retired for the night and the library building lay in darkness and silence. With a sigh she hung up her cloak and got ready for bed.

Once beneath the covers she couldn't keep her eyes closed. It had been a strange day, between discovering that she found herself attracted to the Dremora to her various arguments with Kezutet and her evening with Randalf...she shook her head. Strange, most definitely strange. Randalf had made a number of overtures that she'd found a little overwhelming since she hardly knew the man and she couldn't forget the Dremora's anxiety about her going out. Either they suspected danger or they were...jealous. Her heart skipped a beat. Now that could not be right, there had to be some other reason for Kezutet's mood and the general tension that the Dremora had exhibited...surely, some other reason.

She sighed, wishing she knew more about them. Sure, during the Oblivion crisis everywhere had some statement or other about Dremora and that they were evil and should be killed on sight, but these Dremora were not evil...their ways were different, and certainly their master had tried to merge his realm into Tamriel but that was merely a conflict of interests, not necessarily evil was it not?

Realising that she wasn't going to get any sleep, she got up, lit a lantern and padded downstairs with the intention of utilising her own library's resources to answer some questions. After an hour she found the writings on Daedra singularly unhelpful. She heaved a sigh and shut the books with a thump. There came another thud from the next room and she heard footsteps. She stilled. Zanakal stepped through, yawning and stretching. She met his eyes, startled.

He chose not to comment on why she was there and instead joined her on the couch. She became suddenly aware of him, his powerful body right next to her and dressed as he was in thin linen drawers that left little of his form to the imagination. She was glad of the gloom, hoping that it would conceal her furiously burning cheeks as she was also reminded that her nightgown had much the same effect with its filmy fabric and lace. She saw the gleam of his eyes and knew that this had not escaped his notice.

“I'm sorry,” She said hoarsely, “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“I was not sleeping.” 

He sat close behind her, and could feel the heat of his skin radiate against her back. She shut her eyes and restrained a little whimper. He lifted the books on the table and gave a grunt. “Daedra.” 

She swallowed. “Yes...Daedra...I – er...” 

“Did the book answer your question?” His accent was thick and he took a while to find the right words, but the sheer amusement in his expression made her turn away to hide her embarrassment.

“No.”

“Why not ask a real Daedra?”

“Because...shit, Zanakal, you know why.”

He leaned towards her. “So ask one.”

“No, I – I can't.” She began to move away from him, tensed to stand up and leave when she found herself captured in a strong grip. Defeated, she sat down again. He gave a little rumble of approval.

“Ask me...I have not the words that Kezutet has, but I will try to answer.”

She glanced at him, he seemed to be completely in earnest. “You have more words than you think.” She told him firmly. “I hardly hear you utter a sound when Kezutet is around.”

He shrugged. “I study your language in books, never use it. I end up speaking Altmer because I am always summoned there. Kezutet has more than enough words for us both.”

“Not always. Sometimes Kezutet has too many words.”

He laughed. “He does....but Kezutet would have the words to answer your questions.”

“He would also have teased me for them.”

Zanakal laughed again. “You trust me not to tease then.”

She smiled. “I guess so.” She took a deep breath, wondering which of the thousand questions that had been whirling in her head for days to ask first. Certainly not any about what Dremora men had in their trousers…she cleared her throat and dragged her mind onto safer topics. “What did you and Kezutet do...before you came to be here?”

“We are Markynaz.”

“But what does that mean exactly?”

He shrugged. “We have power, in ourselves and over other of our kyn and I think this is not the question you tried to find in your books, Lady Meredit.”

“No, just one of the less...difficult questions.”

“And you want difficult answers?”

She sighed. “I just want to understand you, but I do not know what might be rude or foolish to ask.”

He said nothing, just pushed her hair over her shoulder and she trembled at the gentle, warm touch that was so suddenly…personal. “Zanakal...?”

“Mmm?” 

She turned her head and her breath caught at the intense glow of the Oblivion fires next to her, the tiny, mysterious smile on the Dremora's fleshy lips. The next moment seemed like a dream, he leaned his head forward a little and kissed her, ever so softly upon the mouth. Her breath left her and her eyes closed in wonder. He repeated the kiss, then wrapped an arm about her, tucking her against his chest. She rested her head on the sleek warmth of his body and wrapped her arms about him. “One question answered, no?” He said.

She uttered a little helpless laugh. 

“And no words needed.” He continued, in very self-satisfied fashion. “Kezutet talks too much.”

“Zanakal...?”

“Mmm?”

“Were you jealous earlier?”

“The answer I gave should have cleared that up, no?”

“Was Kezutet?”

“Very.”

She pulled away from him and put her head in her hands. “Oh dear.”

Zanakal gave her a puzzled frown. “Why is his being jealous a problem where mine is not?”

“Well...” She opened her mouth then closed it again, unsure of how to explain. “I...we...er.” She ground to a halt.

He held her face in his hand, kissed her again and murmured, “There is much you do not know about Dremora.” He pulled his head away and his smile was pure mischief as he added, “Someday Kezutet and I might tell you.”

“Someday?”

“Someday.” He nodded.

She pounded her fist against him in a futile gesture of frustration. “They were right.”

“Who?”

“Everyone who says Dremora are evil.”

He laughed, then said with gravity, “In a war, the opposite faction is always evil.” He stood and walked towards the door. “Goodnight, Lady Meredit, I hope I was able to help answer your questions.”

“Goodnight, Lord Zanakal.” She said quietly to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A kiss!

**Author's Note:**

> I've picked this little fic up again after leaving it on my harddrive for a long time. I have had a lot of enjoyment from this piece, hope you do too! I'm still editing and adding so this will be updated more than my other Elder Scrolls stuff.


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